A/N: Cue the first disclaimer that I have ever bothered to
write. *ahem* Inu-Yasha is not mine, Kagome is not mine,
Shippou is not mine, Sango is not mine. They belong to Rumiko
Takahashi. And Miroku belongs to Sesshoumaru- ah, oops. Wrong
fic . . . ^_^;;
I've had this written for a while now, but I couldn't get at the computer to post it, so I apologize to my wonderful reviewers. I've never gotten so many just for a prologue! It inspired me terribly as far as this story goes, but I do have a lot of others to write in . . . So remember, if ya want more fast, you gotta review! *hinthint*
"People I Have Been"
Something collided with Kagome head-on, a distant but deafening crash echoing in her ears and her body hitting the asphalt with a bone-jarring thud. She slowly lifted her head, dazed into seeing spots, and the figure of her "rescuer" loomed over her and grinned crookedly.
"'Lo. Still alive, then?" it greeted, and she blinked in surprise. It was Miroku.
"What happened?" she asked weakly. "Did something attack us?"
"Well, ya see that nasty-lookin' mess over there?" Miroku said dryly, pointing behind her to a mangled wooden heap smashed up against the brick wall of the arcade. "That ramen cart in the middle o' it tried ta kill ya when I came out of my apartment."
"Ramen cart?" Kagome repeated blankly.
"Ramen cart," Miroku confirmed.
"The ones that sell ramen?" she said in disbelief. Since when were there ramen carts in the feudal period? . . . Come to think of it, since when did Miroku even know what an apartment was, much less have one?
"Ya got a concussion or somethin'?" he asked, peering at her a bit more closely. Kagome returned the favor and discovered a few slightly disturbing things. One, Miroku's ponytail was gone- cut off. Two, he'd pierced the cartilage of his left ear at some point. And three . . . he was wearing one of the boys' school uniforms from her high school- not to mention talking like a boy from her high school.
"You cut your hair," she said finally.
He blinked in surprise. "Yeah- yesterday mornin'. Got sick of brushin' it so much. How'd ya know?"
"Because it's shorter," Kagome replied with a slightly hysterical laugh, getting to her feet. He made no move to follow, and it actually took her a moment to figure out why.
Those pretty new skirts were a bit shorter than she'd realized.
"PERVERT!" Kagome shrieked, turning bright red and throwing her schoolbag at his upturned face in a very Sango-esque way.
Miroku recovered with his usual amazing stamina, sighed contently, and rolled to his feet. "Worth every bruise," he proclaimed to no one in particular as he returned Kagome's bag and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Naughty girl, wearin' black panties ta school."
She turned even redder. "You just wait until I tell Inu-Yasha about this," she threatened.
"Inu-Yasha?" Miroku cocked his head at her curiously. "Izzat yer boyfriend?"
"Ack!" Kagome's face went literally purple. "That's not funny!"
"No boyfriend, eh? So that means yer free Friday night?" He leaned over and grinned at her. "After I saved yer pretty little neck from bein' snapped, I think it's only fair I get ta give it a kiss or two."
Kagome rolled her eyes and resumed her walk to school, not surprised to find him following her. "Why not?" she agreed with a sigh. That was how she usually dealt with romantic overtures anyway, especially in . . . her . . . own . . . time. Um. "How did you get here again?"
He grinned. "Motorcycle. Need a ride?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" 'Toofasttoofasttoofast . . .' Kagome chanted mentally. 'WAY too freaking fast . . .'
"Ain't it such a rush?!" Miroku yelled back to her over the roar of the wind.
"I'M GOING TO DIE!" the girl screamed, tightening her grip on the monk's shoulders and burying her face in his back. He just laughed. "Where in hell did you get this thing?!"
Miroku screeched to a stop in the school parking lot and flashed her a grin over his shoulder. "Bought it," he replied casually. "Saved up over the summer with my paychecks from work."
" 'Work'?" Kagome asked in disbelief. "What'd you DO, hunt down a mob of youkai?!"
He laughed and helped her off the bike. "That'd be cool," he said. "I'd banish 'em with my supreme magic!" Miroku struck a heroic pose and flexed his muscles so ridiculously that she had to laugh despite herself.
"Makoto-samaaa!" a voice suddenly shouted from behind them, and a small throng of giggling girls instantly surrounded Miroku, whose grin became slightly strained around the edges.
"Girls, how nice ta see ya again," he said tightly. "I didn't know you'd be going ta this school. In fact, I was pretty damn SURE ya weren't."
"We applied when we heard you got in!" one of them chirped. "We wouldn't leave you by yourself!"
Miroku twitched slightly; then very carefully put on a sufficiently regretful expression. "Oh, but didn't cha know?" He grabbed the startled Kagome by the waist. "I have a girlfriend now. Met 'er over the summer at work; she's a lovely girl, ain't cha, honeycakes? We're madly in love; ya know how it is. Dreadful sorry an' all that."
"What are you doing?" Kagome hissed at him, blushing brilliantly as the girls all glared at her.
"Just go with it," he muttered out of the side of his mouth. "I'll make it up ta ya later, 'kay?"
"Oh, you know Houshi-sama?" Kagome asked the hostile trio in a friendly and overly polite tone. 'I'm going to kill you in about five seconds if you don't have a DAMN good explanation for this, Miroku . . .' she added mentally.
" 'Houshi-sama'?" the girls asked in dubious unison.
Miroku laughed nervously. "Oh, ya know how it is with girls an' pet names," he said dismissively. "S'posed ta be funny 'n' all." The girls did not look particularly amused, and Kagome had the vague suspicion that this was perhaps not the best way to start off at a new school.
"Well," one of the girls said finally. "That's very nice, Makoto-sama. I hope you're happy."
"'Course we are!" he chirped even as Kagome frowned slightly.
' "Makoto-sama"? They called him that before, too,' she realized with confusion as Miroku quickly started towards the front door, his arm still slung around her waist and slipping . . .
"Hands north of the equator, or lose them," Kagome said sweetly.
"Yes, ma'am," Miroku replied quickly, retracting the offending body part. "Sorry 'bout them girls, by the way. They're brats, 'n' they wanna bed me."
"And you said no?" Kagome gave him a dubious look as he held the door open for her. "Why do I find that hard to believe?"
"Hey, even sex gods have some degree of restraint!" Miroku protested, looking wounded.
"Yes, but what about YOU?" Kagome asked innocently, slipping inside the building.
"That there, that was a low blow, honeycakes," Miroku said, pointing an accusing finger at her but still smirking in amusement. Then his expression turned serious. "I don't wanna fuck 'em 'cause they're bitches, 'kay? They pick on nice girls fer the hell of it an' act like they're doing me a favor when they drape 'emselves over me. They'd never date me or be seen around town with me, and if anyone asks 'em, I'm a fuckin' sex offender and a druggie, but they're the ones who cheat on their boyfriends and pop pills and tequila at the parties. The worst I've done is sneak a cig or two between classes, get drunk off my pop's liquor cabinet, and sleep with a couple of girls I wasn't in love with."
"Long speech," Kagome observed a bit dryly.
Miroku sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Believe me, it gets a lot o' use, but nobody ever bothers ta believe it. Well, Sei-chan an' Akito-kun do, but they've known me since I was eight, an' they're kinda on the gullible side anyway."
Kagome laughed, though she was slightly puzzled. This most definitely wasn't Miroku. She probably should've realized that as soon as he'd asked her out, of course, but that wasn't the point. The point was that he looked exactly like the monk. Well, almost. Miroku never smirked- or at least not like THAT. Though this was good news in a bizarre and possibly youkai- related way- she'd made a modern-day friend before she'd even gotten to her homeroom.
"An' by the by, the name's Obana Makoto. Class 3, freshman," the Miroku look-alike told her, bobbing his head in something like a bow.
"Higurashi Kagome. Also Class 3," she replied politely, bowing more fully in return. "Nice to meet you, Obana-san."
He grimaced. "Call me that again an' I'm drivin' my bike off the roof. It's Makoto. Ya can add the -san if ya have ta, but I'd rather only get a -kun." His grin turned slightly suggestive. "Or maybe a -koi . . ."
Kagome smacked him with her bookbag again. "Idiot," she declared, but was unable to keep the affectionate undertone out of her voice.
"Here's our class," Makoto observed, pointing up at the sign above the nearest door. "See ya later- I can't be on time my first day; it'd give a bad impression, y'know?" She rolled her eyes at that and he flashed her a grin before trotting off.
Kagome entered the classroom, slightly exasperated but undeniably amused, and immediately fell flat on her face as she tripped over another girl's leg. She looked up straight into the glaring face of one of the trio from outside.
'Oh, cookie crumbles.'
"Get up. You're in the way," the girl ordered as her friends snickered.
"You okay, Higurashi?" another voice asked, and Kagome found a hand in front of her face, and the infamous Hojou of Class B, now evidently of Class 3, before her.
"Yes," she replied, sending an icy glare at the girl who'd tripped her. The girl looked suddenly nervous, and she had every reason to. Kagome had learned her glare from the more murderous incarnation of Kikyou, and she had learned it very, very well. "Thank you, Hojou-kun."
"Anytime," the somewhat oblivious boy promised, blushing slightly. He still liked her then, Kagome realized with an inward sigh. How many times had she stood him up that he'd still think so highly of her? He was almost as bad as Kouga . . . although at least Hojou hadn't kidnapped her. Yet. Not that he ever would, of course . . .
Probably not, anyway. One could never really be sure about Hojou. He had done some pretty unusual things for her in the past, and he certainly wasn't much for traditional courtship- one of the only characteristics he happened to have in common with dear Inu-Yasha of the cute doggy ears and big dirty mouth.
"Slut," one of the three whispered as soon as Hojou seemed safely out of earshot.
Before Kagome could even react, Hojou spun around with impressive speed, slamming his hands down on the girl's desk, which made a dangerous screeching sound, and oh-so-sweetly asked: "Did you say something, Miss? I didn't quite hear."
"N- nothing," the girl choked, eyes wide with alarm.
"Good." Hojou smiled benignly and patted her on the head. She cringed, and, apparently satisfied, Hojou made his way back to his seat while Kagome and the other three stared after him.
"Scary," the second of the girls mumbled, shivering.
"Did you see his face? I thought he was going to kill you for a second there," the third added incredulously. The first girl just whimpered and sunk down in her seat. Kagome gave a low, appreciative whistle, and Hojou blushed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
True to his word, Makoto arrived midway through roll call amidst a cacophony of dreamy sighs and snickers, mostly depending on the gender of their origin.
"Yo!" he greeted the room at large, trotting past the annoyed teacher and his even more annoyed fangirls to take the empty seat next to Kagome and behind Hojou, both of whom turned to give him a half-amused, half-exasperated look.
A muscle twitched in the teacher's cheek, but he went on gallantly with: "Higurashi."
"Present," Kagome replied politely, smacking Makoto's hand away from her butt.
"Hojou."
"Here," Hojou answered, ignoring the paper clip which Makoto had tossed at him with inhuman ease.
"Hojou," the teacher repeated.
"Here," Hojou reiterated somewhat dryly amidst muffled laughter from his classmates and a small rain of paper clips.
The teacher gave him a look, and then said: "Hojou Seira." No one answered, though Makoto and Hojou both looked surprised by the name.
The teacher went on, getting as far as "Ueda Katsuya" before the door skidded open again and a dark-haired girl with a bob cut darted into the room, immediately slipping, falling on her butt, and giving the class an excellent, if brief, view of her underwear. Kagome blinked in surprise, then noticed that the other was shoeless, wearing only loose, knee-high socks, the bottoms of which were dirty and grass-stained.
The girl sniffled and stumbled to her stocking feet, quickly bowing in the teacher's general direction. "Sensei-san! I'm very sorry I'm late, please don't be angry!" she begged tearfully, and Kagome noticed a few of her classmates sharing smirks not unlike those that a predator who has just found the weakest member of the herd might wear.
'Somebody really picked the wrong day to get hazed,' she realized with a wince. Then the archer frowned slightly and cocked her head. That face . . . where had she seen that face?
"Sei-chan!" Makoto jumped out of his seat, waving madly to her and wearing a bright smile. The girl turned a brilliant shade of red.
Oh.
Sango's look-alike dashed to the only empty desk, which happened to be on Kagome's left, and practically threw herself into it as if seeking refuge.
"Hojou Seira?" the teacher asked with a cold glare.
"Here," the girl whispered; then promptly buried her face in her knapsack.
"Wonderful," he replied sarcastically. "And since you seem to know Obana here SO well, you can go stand in the hall together for being late."
Seira's blush only darkened, and she quickly got back up. "Yes, sir!" She scurried outside, and Makoto followed lazily, pausing only to smack Hojou upside the head and wink at Kagome, who once again found reason to roll her eyes at him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
That afternoon during lunch, Kagome was not particularly surprised at being confronted by a half-dozen girls, including the three from that morning, as soon as she stepped outside. Somehow she doubted that it was small talk they had in mind, seeing as the whole situation read just like a bad school manga.
"Hello," she greeted simply.
"Hello," retorted the leader of the group, identified as Takeuchi Shikako during roll. Kagome was almost impressed. She knew very few people who could make a one-word greeting sound like an insult, and most of them were either evil youkai or dead and thusly rather bitter by nature.
"You're pretty uppity for somebody without any friends," one of the newer girls observed. "You think Makoto-sama will bother to protect you?"
"I don't need anyone's protection," Kagome replied evenly, shifting her weight as slightly and smoothly as she could. 'Keep your weight on the balls of your feet, make sure to have an eye on your back, and never, ever let them see you sweat . . .' All useful bits of advice that had been drilled into her head over and over again by Sango, Miroku, and even occasionally Inu- Yasha or Shippou when they felt like it.
"Have it your way," another said easily.
"Come with us," Shikako ordered, tilting her head towards the back of the school.
"Like hell I will," Kagome scoffed.
"You think you have a choice?" the second member of the original trio asked coldly- what was her name? Mika?
"Higurashi!" Hojou suddenly appeared at her side, smiling as sweetly as ever. "You feeling okay today?"
"Eh?" She gave him an odd look. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
"Well, you got over your scarlet fever so quickly . . . " he began. "I was just afraid you might be pushing yourself."
Kagome twitched slightly. "Oh. The scarlet fever. Yeah. Um, forgot about that, Hojou-kun," she lied. "But I feel perfectly fine! Honest!" she added hastily.
"That's great!" He beamed at her, and not for the first time did she feel remarkably guilty to be lying to such a trusting and devoted person. "I'm so glad you're better now. You were so sick this summer, after all."
"Uh . . . yeah," she said softly, suddenly feeling about as low as dirt. Usually her conversations with Hojou were too rushed to fit any significant guilt trip into the mix. "I . . . I guess I was." The girls in front of them were smirking nastily, though Hojou didn't seem to notice.
"Liar, liar . . ." Shikako sang softly, and Hojou gave her a genuinely bemused look. Not everyone was as naïve as he was, it seemed.
"Eat with me?" she asked him quietly. His face broke out into his usual sweet smile again, all thoughts of Shikako and her cronies forgotten.
"Sure!" he said happily, and Kagome took his hand, giving Shikako and the others one last glare.
'I won't let them judge me,' she thought fiercely. 'And I won't have them thinking so little of him either. I owe him that much, don't I?' She followed Hojou across the campus to a tall tree, finding two twice-familiar faces under it.
"'lo, Akito-kun, Kagome-chan!" Obana Makoto greeted them cheerfully. "Wanna cigarette?"
"Akito-kun. Higurashi-san." Hojou Seira's face was grave but not unkind, and far more composed than it had been that morning.
"Hello," Kagome said almost shyly as Hojou plopped to the ground next to them. For the first time, she realized that she had not known his first name until that moment, and her face was burning with embarrassment by the time she joined them.
Makoto waved his cigarettes at the other three again. Seira and Hojou both accepted one, but Kagome silently shook her head in refusal. The lighter was offered next, with Makoto smirking knowingly, but neither even glanced at it. Instead, Seira dropped her cigarette into her pencil case to join at least a dozen others of varying age, and Hojou's hung unlit from his mouth.
"I didn't realize that you knew each other," Kagome observed after a moment of silence that had been comfortable for the other three but made her unaccountably nervous.
Hojou shrugged. "We've been friends since forever. Seira an' I are cousins, and she and Makoto live in the same apartment building, so we've hung out a lot, even though we all went to different junior highs," he explained.
"Don't tell me- yer THE Higurashi Kagome?" Makoto looked terrifically amused. "Of all the weird-ass coincidences . . ."
" 'THE Higurashi Kagome'?" she repeated dryly. "What's that supposed to mean?" Hojou turned bright red. 'Oh. Duh, Kagome.'
"Anyway," Hojou said quickly, "that's enough of that."
Seira smiled very faintly. "Akito-kun, there IS no enough when you talk about Higurashi Kagome. He can go on for hours," she informed the other girl. "It's cute, in a desperate way."
Hojou looked pained. "Shut up, Sei-chan," he muttered, dropping his head into his hands.
"It's only the truth, dear," she said patiently, patting him on the head. "There, there, Akito-kun; even the great 'Makoto- sama' has been turned down by girls before. I think. Perhaps once. A very long time ago . . . "
"You're really not helping, you know," he told her through gritted teeth.
This girl, SHE was a bit more like the Sango that Kagome knew so well. But even so, not really. It was something like seeing the demon exterminator through a series of badly warped mirrors.
And then she finally sensed them.
Shikon shards.
Kagome briefly wondered if it was still too early in their friendship to ask Makoto and Seira if she could cut open their stomachs and extract pieces of a mythical jewel.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
To be continued.
I've had this written for a while now, but I couldn't get at the computer to post it, so I apologize to my wonderful reviewers. I've never gotten so many just for a prologue! It inspired me terribly as far as this story goes, but I do have a lot of others to write in . . . So remember, if ya want more fast, you gotta review! *hinthint*
"People I Have Been"
Something collided with Kagome head-on, a distant but deafening crash echoing in her ears and her body hitting the asphalt with a bone-jarring thud. She slowly lifted her head, dazed into seeing spots, and the figure of her "rescuer" loomed over her and grinned crookedly.
"'Lo. Still alive, then?" it greeted, and she blinked in surprise. It was Miroku.
"What happened?" she asked weakly. "Did something attack us?"
"Well, ya see that nasty-lookin' mess over there?" Miroku said dryly, pointing behind her to a mangled wooden heap smashed up against the brick wall of the arcade. "That ramen cart in the middle o' it tried ta kill ya when I came out of my apartment."
"Ramen cart?" Kagome repeated blankly.
"Ramen cart," Miroku confirmed.
"The ones that sell ramen?" she said in disbelief. Since when were there ramen carts in the feudal period? . . . Come to think of it, since when did Miroku even know what an apartment was, much less have one?
"Ya got a concussion or somethin'?" he asked, peering at her a bit more closely. Kagome returned the favor and discovered a few slightly disturbing things. One, Miroku's ponytail was gone- cut off. Two, he'd pierced the cartilage of his left ear at some point. And three . . . he was wearing one of the boys' school uniforms from her high school- not to mention talking like a boy from her high school.
"You cut your hair," she said finally.
He blinked in surprise. "Yeah- yesterday mornin'. Got sick of brushin' it so much. How'd ya know?"
"Because it's shorter," Kagome replied with a slightly hysterical laugh, getting to her feet. He made no move to follow, and it actually took her a moment to figure out why.
Those pretty new skirts were a bit shorter than she'd realized.
"PERVERT!" Kagome shrieked, turning bright red and throwing her schoolbag at his upturned face in a very Sango-esque way.
Miroku recovered with his usual amazing stamina, sighed contently, and rolled to his feet. "Worth every bruise," he proclaimed to no one in particular as he returned Kagome's bag and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Naughty girl, wearin' black panties ta school."
She turned even redder. "You just wait until I tell Inu-Yasha about this," she threatened.
"Inu-Yasha?" Miroku cocked his head at her curiously. "Izzat yer boyfriend?"
"Ack!" Kagome's face went literally purple. "That's not funny!"
"No boyfriend, eh? So that means yer free Friday night?" He leaned over and grinned at her. "After I saved yer pretty little neck from bein' snapped, I think it's only fair I get ta give it a kiss or two."
Kagome rolled her eyes and resumed her walk to school, not surprised to find him following her. "Why not?" she agreed with a sigh. That was how she usually dealt with romantic overtures anyway, especially in . . . her . . . own . . . time. Um. "How did you get here again?"
He grinned. "Motorcycle. Need a ride?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" 'Toofasttoofasttoofast . . .' Kagome chanted mentally. 'WAY too freaking fast . . .'
"Ain't it such a rush?!" Miroku yelled back to her over the roar of the wind.
"I'M GOING TO DIE!" the girl screamed, tightening her grip on the monk's shoulders and burying her face in his back. He just laughed. "Where in hell did you get this thing?!"
Miroku screeched to a stop in the school parking lot and flashed her a grin over his shoulder. "Bought it," he replied casually. "Saved up over the summer with my paychecks from work."
" 'Work'?" Kagome asked in disbelief. "What'd you DO, hunt down a mob of youkai?!"
He laughed and helped her off the bike. "That'd be cool," he said. "I'd banish 'em with my supreme magic!" Miroku struck a heroic pose and flexed his muscles so ridiculously that she had to laugh despite herself.
"Makoto-samaaa!" a voice suddenly shouted from behind them, and a small throng of giggling girls instantly surrounded Miroku, whose grin became slightly strained around the edges.
"Girls, how nice ta see ya again," he said tightly. "I didn't know you'd be going ta this school. In fact, I was pretty damn SURE ya weren't."
"We applied when we heard you got in!" one of them chirped. "We wouldn't leave you by yourself!"
Miroku twitched slightly; then very carefully put on a sufficiently regretful expression. "Oh, but didn't cha know?" He grabbed the startled Kagome by the waist. "I have a girlfriend now. Met 'er over the summer at work; she's a lovely girl, ain't cha, honeycakes? We're madly in love; ya know how it is. Dreadful sorry an' all that."
"What are you doing?" Kagome hissed at him, blushing brilliantly as the girls all glared at her.
"Just go with it," he muttered out of the side of his mouth. "I'll make it up ta ya later, 'kay?"
"Oh, you know Houshi-sama?" Kagome asked the hostile trio in a friendly and overly polite tone. 'I'm going to kill you in about five seconds if you don't have a DAMN good explanation for this, Miroku . . .' she added mentally.
" 'Houshi-sama'?" the girls asked in dubious unison.
Miroku laughed nervously. "Oh, ya know how it is with girls an' pet names," he said dismissively. "S'posed ta be funny 'n' all." The girls did not look particularly amused, and Kagome had the vague suspicion that this was perhaps not the best way to start off at a new school.
"Well," one of the girls said finally. "That's very nice, Makoto-sama. I hope you're happy."
"'Course we are!" he chirped even as Kagome frowned slightly.
' "Makoto-sama"? They called him that before, too,' she realized with confusion as Miroku quickly started towards the front door, his arm still slung around her waist and slipping . . .
"Hands north of the equator, or lose them," Kagome said sweetly.
"Yes, ma'am," Miroku replied quickly, retracting the offending body part. "Sorry 'bout them girls, by the way. They're brats, 'n' they wanna bed me."
"And you said no?" Kagome gave him a dubious look as he held the door open for her. "Why do I find that hard to believe?"
"Hey, even sex gods have some degree of restraint!" Miroku protested, looking wounded.
"Yes, but what about YOU?" Kagome asked innocently, slipping inside the building.
"That there, that was a low blow, honeycakes," Miroku said, pointing an accusing finger at her but still smirking in amusement. Then his expression turned serious. "I don't wanna fuck 'em 'cause they're bitches, 'kay? They pick on nice girls fer the hell of it an' act like they're doing me a favor when they drape 'emselves over me. They'd never date me or be seen around town with me, and if anyone asks 'em, I'm a fuckin' sex offender and a druggie, but they're the ones who cheat on their boyfriends and pop pills and tequila at the parties. The worst I've done is sneak a cig or two between classes, get drunk off my pop's liquor cabinet, and sleep with a couple of girls I wasn't in love with."
"Long speech," Kagome observed a bit dryly.
Miroku sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Believe me, it gets a lot o' use, but nobody ever bothers ta believe it. Well, Sei-chan an' Akito-kun do, but they've known me since I was eight, an' they're kinda on the gullible side anyway."
Kagome laughed, though she was slightly puzzled. This most definitely wasn't Miroku. She probably should've realized that as soon as he'd asked her out, of course, but that wasn't the point. The point was that he looked exactly like the monk. Well, almost. Miroku never smirked- or at least not like THAT. Though this was good news in a bizarre and possibly youkai- related way- she'd made a modern-day friend before she'd even gotten to her homeroom.
"An' by the by, the name's Obana Makoto. Class 3, freshman," the Miroku look-alike told her, bobbing his head in something like a bow.
"Higurashi Kagome. Also Class 3," she replied politely, bowing more fully in return. "Nice to meet you, Obana-san."
He grimaced. "Call me that again an' I'm drivin' my bike off the roof. It's Makoto. Ya can add the -san if ya have ta, but I'd rather only get a -kun." His grin turned slightly suggestive. "Or maybe a -koi . . ."
Kagome smacked him with her bookbag again. "Idiot," she declared, but was unable to keep the affectionate undertone out of her voice.
"Here's our class," Makoto observed, pointing up at the sign above the nearest door. "See ya later- I can't be on time my first day; it'd give a bad impression, y'know?" She rolled her eyes at that and he flashed her a grin before trotting off.
Kagome entered the classroom, slightly exasperated but undeniably amused, and immediately fell flat on her face as she tripped over another girl's leg. She looked up straight into the glaring face of one of the trio from outside.
'Oh, cookie crumbles.'
"Get up. You're in the way," the girl ordered as her friends snickered.
"You okay, Higurashi?" another voice asked, and Kagome found a hand in front of her face, and the infamous Hojou of Class B, now evidently of Class 3, before her.
"Yes," she replied, sending an icy glare at the girl who'd tripped her. The girl looked suddenly nervous, and she had every reason to. Kagome had learned her glare from the more murderous incarnation of Kikyou, and she had learned it very, very well. "Thank you, Hojou-kun."
"Anytime," the somewhat oblivious boy promised, blushing slightly. He still liked her then, Kagome realized with an inward sigh. How many times had she stood him up that he'd still think so highly of her? He was almost as bad as Kouga . . . although at least Hojou hadn't kidnapped her. Yet. Not that he ever would, of course . . .
Probably not, anyway. One could never really be sure about Hojou. He had done some pretty unusual things for her in the past, and he certainly wasn't much for traditional courtship- one of the only characteristics he happened to have in common with dear Inu-Yasha of the cute doggy ears and big dirty mouth.
"Slut," one of the three whispered as soon as Hojou seemed safely out of earshot.
Before Kagome could even react, Hojou spun around with impressive speed, slamming his hands down on the girl's desk, which made a dangerous screeching sound, and oh-so-sweetly asked: "Did you say something, Miss? I didn't quite hear."
"N- nothing," the girl choked, eyes wide with alarm.
"Good." Hojou smiled benignly and patted her on the head. She cringed, and, apparently satisfied, Hojou made his way back to his seat while Kagome and the other three stared after him.
"Scary," the second of the girls mumbled, shivering.
"Did you see his face? I thought he was going to kill you for a second there," the third added incredulously. The first girl just whimpered and sunk down in her seat. Kagome gave a low, appreciative whistle, and Hojou blushed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
True to his word, Makoto arrived midway through roll call amidst a cacophony of dreamy sighs and snickers, mostly depending on the gender of their origin.
"Yo!" he greeted the room at large, trotting past the annoyed teacher and his even more annoyed fangirls to take the empty seat next to Kagome and behind Hojou, both of whom turned to give him a half-amused, half-exasperated look.
A muscle twitched in the teacher's cheek, but he went on gallantly with: "Higurashi."
"Present," Kagome replied politely, smacking Makoto's hand away from her butt.
"Hojou."
"Here," Hojou answered, ignoring the paper clip which Makoto had tossed at him with inhuman ease.
"Hojou," the teacher repeated.
"Here," Hojou reiterated somewhat dryly amidst muffled laughter from his classmates and a small rain of paper clips.
The teacher gave him a look, and then said: "Hojou Seira." No one answered, though Makoto and Hojou both looked surprised by the name.
The teacher went on, getting as far as "Ueda Katsuya" before the door skidded open again and a dark-haired girl with a bob cut darted into the room, immediately slipping, falling on her butt, and giving the class an excellent, if brief, view of her underwear. Kagome blinked in surprise, then noticed that the other was shoeless, wearing only loose, knee-high socks, the bottoms of which were dirty and grass-stained.
The girl sniffled and stumbled to her stocking feet, quickly bowing in the teacher's general direction. "Sensei-san! I'm very sorry I'm late, please don't be angry!" she begged tearfully, and Kagome noticed a few of her classmates sharing smirks not unlike those that a predator who has just found the weakest member of the herd might wear.
'Somebody really picked the wrong day to get hazed,' she realized with a wince. Then the archer frowned slightly and cocked her head. That face . . . where had she seen that face?
"Sei-chan!" Makoto jumped out of his seat, waving madly to her and wearing a bright smile. The girl turned a brilliant shade of red.
Oh.
Sango's look-alike dashed to the only empty desk, which happened to be on Kagome's left, and practically threw herself into it as if seeking refuge.
"Hojou Seira?" the teacher asked with a cold glare.
"Here," the girl whispered; then promptly buried her face in her knapsack.
"Wonderful," he replied sarcastically. "And since you seem to know Obana here SO well, you can go stand in the hall together for being late."
Seira's blush only darkened, and she quickly got back up. "Yes, sir!" She scurried outside, and Makoto followed lazily, pausing only to smack Hojou upside the head and wink at Kagome, who once again found reason to roll her eyes at him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
That afternoon during lunch, Kagome was not particularly surprised at being confronted by a half-dozen girls, including the three from that morning, as soon as she stepped outside. Somehow she doubted that it was small talk they had in mind, seeing as the whole situation read just like a bad school manga.
"Hello," she greeted simply.
"Hello," retorted the leader of the group, identified as Takeuchi Shikako during roll. Kagome was almost impressed. She knew very few people who could make a one-word greeting sound like an insult, and most of them were either evil youkai or dead and thusly rather bitter by nature.
"You're pretty uppity for somebody without any friends," one of the newer girls observed. "You think Makoto-sama will bother to protect you?"
"I don't need anyone's protection," Kagome replied evenly, shifting her weight as slightly and smoothly as she could. 'Keep your weight on the balls of your feet, make sure to have an eye on your back, and never, ever let them see you sweat . . .' All useful bits of advice that had been drilled into her head over and over again by Sango, Miroku, and even occasionally Inu- Yasha or Shippou when they felt like it.
"Have it your way," another said easily.
"Come with us," Shikako ordered, tilting her head towards the back of the school.
"Like hell I will," Kagome scoffed.
"You think you have a choice?" the second member of the original trio asked coldly- what was her name? Mika?
"Higurashi!" Hojou suddenly appeared at her side, smiling as sweetly as ever. "You feeling okay today?"
"Eh?" She gave him an odd look. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
"Well, you got over your scarlet fever so quickly . . . " he began. "I was just afraid you might be pushing yourself."
Kagome twitched slightly. "Oh. The scarlet fever. Yeah. Um, forgot about that, Hojou-kun," she lied. "But I feel perfectly fine! Honest!" she added hastily.
"That's great!" He beamed at her, and not for the first time did she feel remarkably guilty to be lying to such a trusting and devoted person. "I'm so glad you're better now. You were so sick this summer, after all."
"Uh . . . yeah," she said softly, suddenly feeling about as low as dirt. Usually her conversations with Hojou were too rushed to fit any significant guilt trip into the mix. "I . . . I guess I was." The girls in front of them were smirking nastily, though Hojou didn't seem to notice.
"Liar, liar . . ." Shikako sang softly, and Hojou gave her a genuinely bemused look. Not everyone was as naïve as he was, it seemed.
"Eat with me?" she asked him quietly. His face broke out into his usual sweet smile again, all thoughts of Shikako and her cronies forgotten.
"Sure!" he said happily, and Kagome took his hand, giving Shikako and the others one last glare.
'I won't let them judge me,' she thought fiercely. 'And I won't have them thinking so little of him either. I owe him that much, don't I?' She followed Hojou across the campus to a tall tree, finding two twice-familiar faces under it.
"'lo, Akito-kun, Kagome-chan!" Obana Makoto greeted them cheerfully. "Wanna cigarette?"
"Akito-kun. Higurashi-san." Hojou Seira's face was grave but not unkind, and far more composed than it had been that morning.
"Hello," Kagome said almost shyly as Hojou plopped to the ground next to them. For the first time, she realized that she had not known his first name until that moment, and her face was burning with embarrassment by the time she joined them.
Makoto waved his cigarettes at the other three again. Seira and Hojou both accepted one, but Kagome silently shook her head in refusal. The lighter was offered next, with Makoto smirking knowingly, but neither even glanced at it. Instead, Seira dropped her cigarette into her pencil case to join at least a dozen others of varying age, and Hojou's hung unlit from his mouth.
"I didn't realize that you knew each other," Kagome observed after a moment of silence that had been comfortable for the other three but made her unaccountably nervous.
Hojou shrugged. "We've been friends since forever. Seira an' I are cousins, and she and Makoto live in the same apartment building, so we've hung out a lot, even though we all went to different junior highs," he explained.
"Don't tell me- yer THE Higurashi Kagome?" Makoto looked terrifically amused. "Of all the weird-ass coincidences . . ."
" 'THE Higurashi Kagome'?" she repeated dryly. "What's that supposed to mean?" Hojou turned bright red. 'Oh. Duh, Kagome.'
"Anyway," Hojou said quickly, "that's enough of that."
Seira smiled very faintly. "Akito-kun, there IS no enough when you talk about Higurashi Kagome. He can go on for hours," she informed the other girl. "It's cute, in a desperate way."
Hojou looked pained. "Shut up, Sei-chan," he muttered, dropping his head into his hands.
"It's only the truth, dear," she said patiently, patting him on the head. "There, there, Akito-kun; even the great 'Makoto- sama' has been turned down by girls before. I think. Perhaps once. A very long time ago . . . "
"You're really not helping, you know," he told her through gritted teeth.
This girl, SHE was a bit more like the Sango that Kagome knew so well. But even so, not really. It was something like seeing the demon exterminator through a series of badly warped mirrors.
And then she finally sensed them.
Shikon shards.
Kagome briefly wondered if it was still too early in their friendship to ask Makoto and Seira if she could cut open their stomachs and extract pieces of a mythical jewel.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
To be continued.